Plausible Deniability
by DrawMeASheep
Summary: A Tiva-flavored continuation of the final scene of the ep Two Faced.


Disclaimer: According to the surgeon general, consumption of fanfic impairs your ability to drive a car or operate machinery and may cause health problems.

Spoilers: _Two-Faced_. Right to the bitter end.

Summary: Turns out I couldn't wait a full week to find out what happened after the final phoof.

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><p>After the initial gasps and cries of shock, the bar had fallen completely silent, save for the elevator music. Tony had never understood why places like this had TVs on mute tuned to sports, then tried to create an atmosphere of 'underwater coma ward.' He was about to turn to Ziva to share this witty observation when he realized that they still had to deal with an eyeball in an ice cube. His brain abruptly returned from its reflexive vacation; they had a – he risked a glance at Ziva as he realized the implications of their situation – a crime scene to deal with. Among other potentially worse things.<p>

In spite of the presence of two fully-trained federal agents, the bartender was the first to recover enough to speak. "I did _not_ put that in your drink, man. Uh, sir, I mean."

Tony tried to smile. "Don't worry about it."

"But…there's a damn eyeball on my bar!"

"Right." He groped for his badge, but Ziva beat him to the punch.

"We are federal agents. Who was the man in the booth? Can you describe him?"

Five minutes of average-this, normal-that, Tony decided to end her increasingly hostile interrogation. "Hey, maybe we should ask some of the other people in here if they saw this guy."

"Fine. We should also block off that booth to preserve any evidence and call…" she trailed off and directed her gaze to the floor.

It was a nicely polished dark hardwood, Tony had to admit. He took his time appreciating it before telling it, "We have to call Gibbs."

Ziva answered, "Yes. And EJ will be involved."

"Right." This was going from bad to worse. Well, if he had to suffer, he wouldn't have to do it alone. "And maybe CI-Ray, since he's in on this case too."

"Possibly. Not that it matters, because it is over between he and I."

"So you're saying that I'm the only one who needs a believable excuse for being here?" Tony sighed. Things had always been complicated, but at least they'd been manageable, with Ray far away and him single. Now… "Hey, tell me again why we're at a hotel and not your place."

"Because Ray knows where I live and I did not want him stopping by while we…"

"Yeah. Of course, he probably knows you're here via CIA super satellites or something. I mean that in a sort of romantic Tommy Lee Jones in _Men in Black_ way, not a stalker in the bushes way."

"It does not matter. We are over."

"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." He got a glare for his effort. "Yeah, my Inigo Montoya needs work. But my point…"

"What point?" Her tone indicated that she knew exactly what his point was and that she was going to stab him if he made any attempt to clarify it. She returned her attention to the lovely floor. "This would not have happened if we had just gone to your apartment."

"We…can't." Not with EJ spending so much time there. That was too much to risk. One forgotten item of clothing and it was all over. She'd already thrown away the spare toothbrush tucked into the back of the medicine cabinet. "Look, we'll just call Gibbs and…figure out a story while he's on his way."

"This is so stupid."

"No, we can do this." He ran through his mental list of excuses, but came up empty on 'Why was I with my partner in a hotel bar?' She was looking at him strangely. "Uh, you did mean concocting a plausible reason for our being here together is the stupid thing, right?"

"Just call Gibbs."

"Maybe you should call."

"Why me?"

"He won't ask a lot of questions if it's you."

She rolled her eyes, but pulled her phone from her pocket. She frowned at the screen.

"No signal?"

"Ray has been calling."

Tony swallowed hard. "You should call him back. After you call Gibbs, I mean."

He turned away as she dialed, making his way back to his seat at the bar. The bartender was looking shell-shocked at a table near the back, where they had herded the rest of the patrons. The hotel had already delivered on promised finger foods and sodas in exchange for cooperation. Tony inhaled deeply and tried not to think about chicken wings. A quick look at the melting eyecube on the bar quelled his appetite. Eyecube. When McGee arrived, he would be sure to make a joke about 'the Apple product from hell.' He would laugh if Tony snuck it in before he saw the actual evidence.

Ziva was at his side a moment later. "That was quick." Too quick for two phone calls, that was for sure.

"Gibbs and McGee will be here in ten minutes."

"Hm. What about EJ?"

"It did not come up."

Tony had to chuckle. "The Director won't be happy. Not that anyone on the Isle of Gibbs really cares."

"Do you?"

"Honestly? I'd prefer to not be working with her. Kinda rocks the boat." He almost reached for his Scotch, which was still sitting on the bar. And had possibly been splashed with eyecube liquid. Oh, no thank you. "So, any thoughts on the real reason we were here tonight?"

"The real reason?"

"The reason for public consumption." He began to talk faster, as if that would make him feel like less of a jerk. "Look, the thing is, I kinda canceled plans with EJ and it's next to impossible that she won't be finding out that we were both here…pretty much targeted by her Port to Port guy. So…"

Ziva took a deep breath. "We will say I was…_upset_…about Ray…and that you…offered to meet me…to talk."

"That sounds…that could work." The eyecube suddenly didn't seem so disturbing. Well…

She suddenly spoke again, "Maybe we should just stop."

"Lying?"

"Yes, but I mean…this."

He drummed his fingers against the bar. "We tried that. It didn't work."

"Perhaps we did not try hard enough."

"I don't think…how was this gonna end?"

She shrugged. "We do not know how to end it because we have never known what was happening, really."

"Uh, we've been…"

"Beyond that. I know we have always said we would not let it interfere with our professional lives, but…"

"Yeah."

"Yes." She looked at her watch. "Gibbs should be here shortly. I suppose I should turn our keycards in at the desk."

"Well…it's only nine. And I hear this place has kickass room service breakfast…"

"What if EJ gets here and wants to make sure you get home safely?"

"I can handle it. Remember, I'm making you feel better tonight."

She leaned into his grasp on her shoulder. "Are we bad people? For this?"

"Only when other people get involved."

"We really should…"

"Gibbs is here." He tugged her sleeve before she could get up and whispered, "What's the room number?"

"1419."

"Meet you there half an hour after we're done with this scene?"

"It is a mistake."

"Always has been."

She dropped a keycard into his pocket just before Gibbs was close enough to lean over to look at the eyecube.


End file.
